


Music and the Winchesters Saved Me

by Kiley



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Demons, F/M, Swearing, The Family Business, hunting things, saving people
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-14
Updated: 2014-09-22
Packaged: 2018-02-17 08:04:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2302514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiley/pseuds/Kiley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the Winchesters found you, you were being forced to sing at a dive in the middle of nowhere. Your long time boyfriend keeping you captive. The only thing that kept you going was music. Then the Winchesters came along, and everything changed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Green Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own the song in this chapter :)

You shivered slightly as the cold air whispered across your exposed stomach. It was safe to assume that this wasn’t your all time favorite outfit. You envied the girls who could wear a crop top, tight leather pants, and heels with ease. As people started filing into the bar, you sighed heavily.

The bar was nothing special really: it was in the middle of absolute nowhere, right next to a crossroads. It was scum themed and smelled strongly of the substance it was best known for. A stage occupied the far right, the bar on the far left facing it. Mismatched tables and chairs were scattered throughout. In short: it was a dive.

“Remember, be sexy. I want every person in this bar to become a regular, you got it?” A smooth voice purred into your ear, making you flinch slightly.

You nodded deftly, wishing this could all be over. Late at night, when you heard the muffled screams, you wondered if that would be you one night. Sometimes, when the screams abruptly stopped, when you heard him shut the door to that room and walk away, you wished it was you. Then everything would be okay again.

Spurred on by the beat of some sexy song and a forceful shove, you stepped onto the stage, slipping into a character you had been playing for far to long.

“How’s everyone doing tonight?” you cooed into the microphone, making a long, sensual sweep of the crowd that had collected. It wasn’t like you actually saw anyone; you had stopped seeing the lewd, leering faces a while ago. 

When your ears detected some whistles and catcalls, your lips automatically pulled up into a smirk. If anyone had actually looked at you, however, they would find nothing in your eyes.

One sex fueled song after another came and went, you shook your hips, bit your lip, winked, and shimmied like you were born doing it. It was now the end of the night, and you were ready to fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.

“All right everyone, it’s almost time for closing.”

A loud round of disappointed moans and boos rang through the bar. You laughed lightly.

“Now, don’t be that way! You can always come back to see me,” you winked into the crowd. You gave another one of your infamous crowd sweeps, this time your eyes landing on a pair of emerald ones. Your breath hitched in your throat. Those emerald eyes seemed to be borrowing into your soul, trying to uncover your demons.  
You quickly looked away, trying to regain your composure.

“If you have been here before, you know what time it is.” You smiled, hands on your hips. “What kind of song do you guys want me to sing for the last song? Fast and sexy?” you wiggled your hips, “slow and sensual?” you ran your tongue across your bottom lip.

“Heartfelt!” someone called from the crowd. Your eyes shot to the source of the sound; it was the emerald eyes man. 

You sputtered, not knowing at all what that meant. To your shock the rest of the crowd looked like they agreed.

“Uh . . . okay . . .” You slipped your heels off, grabbing a chair and a guitar, strumming it lightly.

“Um . . . Well . . . here goes nothing,” you laughed nervously into the microphone. “Give You What You Like, from Avril Lavigne.”

A few coughs made there way to your ears as you apprehensively started the song.

“Please wrap your drunken arms around me, and I’ll you call me yours tonight. Because slightly broken’s just what I need, and if you give me what I want, then I’ll give you what you like.” Your voice was soft and full of emotion. This song was your life, in a way. 

The whole bar was completely silent as they watched you lose yourself in the emotion. You poured your entire heart out, and it felt amazing. 

When the song ended, you smiled as the audience erupted into cheers, standing up and all. You waved as you exited, not realizing he was right there behind the curtain, anger contorting his once beautiful face until it was to late. He caught you by the arm, dragging you down the hall and through the door that led to where he and you lived.

“What the fuck was that?” he seethed, spit flying onto your face. You winced, eyes instinctively closing.

“I’m sorry!” you whimpered, shying away. He held your arm tight. “The audience wanted it!”

He threw you against the wall, your head banging against it. “I don’t give a fuck what the audience wants! You’re here to do what I want!”

“Please . . . Will . . .” 

Will gives you a smirk, letting your body slide down the wall.

“My name’s not Will, you bitch. Remember?” He nudged your side with his foot causing you to flinch away. How could you forget?

You nod slowly, looking down at the ground, praying he would either stop hurting you or just fucking kill you already.

“Go to your room,” he said calmly, turning on his heel and walking away.

You got up slowly, just waiting for him to come back and use you as a punching bag again. When that didn’t happen you sighed softly, making your way to your room that was in the back of the “house” connected to the bar.

Before you got to your room, you slipped into the bathroom and washed off the make up that covered your face, arms, and stomach. Bruises flowered along your skin, last night you had counted about twenty-three in all, which included the ones on your legs that were covered by your jeans. You took a deep breath, staring at yourself in the mirror. You (e/c) eyes looked devoid of life. At first it had scared you, now it was just a cruel reminder at how far this life had led you. 

After shutting the bathroom door, you walked into your room. It was more of a closet, really. It was big enough to contain a bed, a bedside table, and a desk. You picked your iPod up from the bedside table and slipped your earbuds in. This was one of the only things he allowed you to have: music. If it wasn’t for the music, you weren’t sure what state of mind you would be in. Sometimes he would even come back from the outside world with a new CD for you, or let you purchase some music on iTunes. Those were generally the days after you did a great performance. You knew you wouldn’t be getting any new music tomorrow. 

Scrolling through your music library, your eye caught the brand on your wrist. You stroked it, feeling the puckered skin. You honestly had no idea what the intricate symbol meant, all you knew was that it hurt like hell. You sighed heavily, pressing play, and losing yourself in the heavenly voice of Brendan Urie.


	2. Everything's Going to Change

You had no idea what time it was. Honestly, you weren’t even sure what had woken you up. Brendan was still singing about Sara in your ears, it was kind of a wonder that you heard anything in the first place.

Slipping your earbuds out, you sat up, straining to hear anything. You started to wonder if Will had anyone over that night. You cringed, not wanting to listen to that at all.  
Your boots fell to the ground as you took them off, padding barefoot to the door. You leaned your ear against it, trying to hear anything. Suddenly a dull thud reverberated through the house. 

Slowly, quietly, you eased the door open, scanning the area. Seeing nothing, you decided to venture out, wondering if this was a sane plan. It was all you had, so you opened the door wider and stepped into the hall. You walked quietly down the hall, looking around you. You remembered as you walked that Will had told you a couple times that if you told anyone about him, he would be killed, and you would be kidnapped, and they wouldn’t treat you as nicely as he treated you.

Another dull thud echoed and you jumped, squeaking quietly. The next sound you heard were two pairs of footsteps heading your way. There was literally nowhere to go. You could have ran back to your room, but the killers would see you before you got halfway there. So you just stood there in paralyzed fear.

Two men opened the door at the end of the hall and froze when they saw you. You recognized the shorter one with the vivid green eyes from your show. Your own eyes widened in fear as you looked him over, as well as the tall moose of a man standing next to him. They would easily be able to kill you. 

“Is that her?” The taller one asked green eyes.

He nodded, putting his hands up. The taller one followed suit, neither realizing that they both still held weapons in their hands.

You squeaked in fear, taking a couple rapid steps backwards. Your body slammed into a solid mass behind you, and you whirled around, finding yourself staring into some intense blue eyes. He was shorter than green eyes and wore a trench coat. 

“It’s all right, we are not going to hurt you.” trench coat man’s voice was deep and gravely.

You gulped loudly, not sure what to do.

“What’s your name?” Green eyes asked, smiling warmly and reassuringly at you.

“(y/n),” you whispered, fear coursing through your veins. 

“We’re here to save you, (y/n). My name’s Dean, that’s Sam, and the guy behind you, his name is Cas.” Dean nodded, smiling still.

You nodded slowly, wondering if you should trust them.

“Do your eyes change too?” You asked quietly, looking at the three men.

They traded looks with each other.

“No, they do not.” Cas responded, “None of ours do.”

“Where are you taking me?” You asked next, fiddling with a belt loop on your leather pants.

“That’s not important: what’s important is getting you out of here asap.” Sam smiled, nodding his head towards the door.

You felt Cas place his hands on you, and your world went black.


	3. What Happens Now?

You woke up lying on the most comfortable thing your back has touched in a long time. Realizing it was a bed, you snuggled closer into the sheets, smiling softly as the warmth surrounded you. Suddenly you remembered the events of the previous night and your eyes snapped open. It took a moment for them to adjust, but once they did you looked around.

The room was sparsely furnished, the walls a soft beige. A dark brown dresser stood at attention to your left, and two bed side tables flanked the bed. A mirror stood above the dresser, and you caught your reflection in it. Your (h/l) (h/c) hair was mused, and your (e/c) eyes were clouded with a mixture of sleep and nervousness. No one was in the room with you.

You slowly got out of the bed, looking around. You were still in your clothes from last night, so at least you had that going for you. Walking over to the open door, you peaked your head out, looking around the long, empty hallway. Padding softly, you walked down the hall, towards the faint noises you could hear.

Ending up in a kitchen was the last place you thought you would find yourself. In all honesty, you thought you would end up in a dungeon or facing a dead end that was cut off by a locked gate. The last thing you expected was to find Sam making soup, Dean sitting on the kitchen counter, reading a paper, and Cas sitting at the table, staring down at his hands. 

“What are we going to do with her?” You heard Cas say. You hid behind the corner, listening intently.

“What do you mean?” Sam asked, the soup pot clanging as he stirred.

“Are you two willing to help her? She’s very damaged. We don’t even know her whole story. All we know is that her abuser is a demon.”

You gasped softly, finally hearing the name of the thing your Will had turned into. You had no idea, and he didn’t seem very inclined to tell you. All you knew was that his eyes could fill with a black so deep that it sucked the air out of your body. 

“Of course we’re willing to help her. What did you think we were going to do? Save her, pin a twenty to her shirt, and wish her the best of luck?” Dean scoffed.

“Dean . . .” Cas’s voice sounded cautious.

“Cas, I know where you’re coming from. We’re going to help her, okay? That’s what we do. We’re gonna make her better.” Dean’s voice held a level of conviction that brought a smile to your face. You quickly stopped however, when Will’s words echoed through your skull.

‘If these people find me, they will kill you, then torture you. They won’t be as nice as I’ve been, understand?’

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t notice Dean standing right in front of you. He placed a hand on your shoulder, saying your name softly.

“(y/n)?” 

You jumped, skittering away. He raised his hands quickly, surprise flitting across his face.

“Hey, hey it’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you. I’m sorry for startling you, I was going to check on you and I saw you standing there. You okay?” He smiled reassuringly at you, keeping his distance in order to make you feel better.

You nodded slowly, keeping your eyes trained to the ground.

“You wanna come into the kitchen? Sammy’s almost done making dinner.”

Wordlessly you followed him. Sitting down at the table, you felt Cas’s eyes on you. Dinner was quiet and tense. No one spoke, and you didn’t look at any of them.   
After dinner you started to head back to your room, Dean’s soft voice stopped you.

“When you’re ready to tell me what you went through, (y/n), just know that I’m always here.” You looked back at him and you could see the sincerity in his eyes.

You nodded quickly then headed on your way, just barely catching Dean’s soft sigh. You didn’t trust these three just yet.


	4. Turning Point

It was a couple days later, and you had been in the same clothes this whole time, and you were getting slightly irritated by it. You didn’t dare say anything however; you had no idea how any of them would react. 

Dean sat beside you at the table, he and you were eating breakfast. Sam was still asleep, and you had no idea where Cas was. He often disappeared without warning. You had no idea how he moved that fast or where he went to when he did that. It made you curious, but you weren’t going to ask, you were afraid of the answer you would get.

You felt Dean’s eyes on you as you stared down at your cereal. The stare intensified, almost like he was seeing something for the first time.

“Hey, you don’t have any clothes, do you?”

You shook your head, not looking up.

“Sam and I’ll take you shopping today.” He smiled, wishing he could reach out and hold your hand. He held back, though, he remembered how you had reacted to him a couple days ago.

You nodded once. Dean noticed how your shoulders relaxed slightly, like you were relieved to be getting out of the tight, showy outfit. 

“What kind of things do you like to wear? If you want, you can borrow one of my flannels today. I can see that the shirt you’re wearing makes you uncomfortable.”

It baffled you how Dean sounded so sincere. You looked up at him slowly, wondering if maybe he was being sincere; maybe these three really didn’t want to hurt you.

“I like skinny jeans, just not leather ones.” You said quietly, waiting for the smack. When it didn’t come, and you got a smile instead, you went on, “I don’t really care for tight shirts, I like things that have a relaxed fit. I’ve always liked the look of flannel. I really like converse and boots, too.”

“That’s a start.” Dean smiled wide, giving you a double thumbs up. “I’ll go wake Sammy, grab you a flannel, and we’ll be on our way, okay?”

“Dean?” You called when he was almost out the door.

“Yeah?” He turned around, scratching his arm.

“I don’t have any shoes.” You laughed softly, wiggling your sock clad toes at him.

Dean laughed as well, running a hand through his hair, “Now that’s a problem. We’ll look around, okay? Maybe we can find something.”

You nodded, smiling shyly at him. 

Dean ended up finding a pair of beat up old converse that he said a friend of his named Charlie left behind. They fit okay, maybe a little to small, but they would do until you could get your own pair. 

You waited by the door, wondering how this was all going to happen. Would they handcuff you? Will did that on the very few occasions he let you go into the real world with him, he made you hide the cuffs under a sweater. Maybe they had something different. Not knowing seemed to be your norm now.

Sam walked in first, smiling at you.

“Hey (y/n)! How did you sleep?” 

“Good,” You replied, so quiet that he almost didn’t hear you.

He nodded, slipping a coat on. 

Dean walked out next, his worn leather jacket slung over his shoulder. 

‘That was it,’ you thought, eyeing the leather jacket, ‘they’re going to handcuff me and have me put the jacket over my hands.’

“Everyone ready?” Dean asked, shrugging on the jacket.

Sam opened the door to the garage; you stood there, confused.

“Aren’t you going to hand cuff me or something?” You asked, your voice louder than any other times you had spoken before.

They both stared at you for a few seconds, eyes wide with shock.

“Of course not,” Sam spoke up first, “Why would we do that?”

“So I don’t run away?” You shrugged, looking down at your feet.

“(y/n), you’re not a prisoner here. You can leave whenever you want.” Dean shrugged, “hell, if you wanted to, we could get you clothes then drop you off wherever you wanted. We thought you would want to stay here because this is the safest place in the world.”

You looked at them skeptically, you just couldn’t believe that these two men didn’t mean you harm. Something in your stirred suddenly, something you hadn’t felt in a long time. You squirmed around a bit as you tried to place the feeling, but it was incredibly hard. 

The boys looked at you expectantly, you realized they were looking for an answer.

“I can stay here . . . but I’m not a prisoner?” you ask slowly.

They both nodded.

“I’m here . . . because you two want to keep me safe?”

They nod again.

You stare at them for a few more minutes, wondering what to do. If you bolted now, you had no idea where you would go. You didn’t know where you were, you didn’t know if Will would come after you, you had no family left. It seemed like the best option was to stay with these boys who you knew nothing about. 

“Okay . . . I’ll stay,” You smile shyly at Dean, who smiles wide.

“Great!”


End file.
